


I Don't Get It and I Don't Need To

by bananabog



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 2fords1stan, Crack, Incest, M/M, Stancest - Freeform, Time Travel Shenanigans, Twincest, complete and utter crack, how could this happen to me, whatever gets your dick hard bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6331972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananabog/pseuds/bananabog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He’s pretty sure it’s broken some kind of science law in space and time somewhere, but Stan finds that he just … really doesn’t care. He just doesn’t. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>2Fords1Stan AU. 13 x 100-drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Get It and I Don't Need To

**Author's Note:**

> Stancest up the butt. IT’S CRACK. PORN. CRACK-PORN. EXPLICIT SHIT.

He’s pretty sure it’s broken some kind of science law in space and time somewhere, but Stan finds that he just … really doesn’t care. He just doesn’t. Something comes to mind about wooden horses and gifts, or something, but fuck it; there are two Stanfords in front of him, and they both want his ass. Like _hell_ he’s going to say no to _that_.  

The younger Stanford – his Stanford – looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

The older Stanford, on the other hand, looks completely at ease. He’s almost smug. (Is he fifty? …Sixty? Whatever, he’s fucking _hot_.)

x x x

“We’re going to need different names,” Older Stanford murmurs.

“I have an idea! How about, you tell us, HOW IN THE WORLD – ” Younger Stanford explodes, “ – IS THIS SITUATION IS EVEN FEASIBLE?! Is it wormholes? Inter-dimensional space-time travel? …Are you here to kill our father?!”

“Oh, I wish,” both Stanley and Older Stanford mutter simultaneously.

“W-well, I’m not calling myself anything.” Younger Ford crosses his arms and huffs. “Stanley. What do you think?”

“You could call me ‘Daddy’, if you wanted,” Older Ford suggests breezily.

“…that is _disgusting_ ,” Ford yells, at the same time Stanley grins, “That’s fuckin’  _awesome_!”

  x x x

They get down to it with little to no preamble.

Older Ford grimaces as he pulls out a familiar, half-used tub from under their bed. “Ugh, _Crisco_. How did we even work with this thing? …It’s rhetorical, don’t actually answer that.”

“There’s _other_ lubricant besides Crisco?” Ford gapes.

Stan’s jaw hangs open as well. “We can _afford_ other lubricant besides Crisco?”

Older Ford smirks. He casually shrugs off his trench coat (yes, the bastard’s still fully clothed) and begins pulling out a seemingly infinite assortment of tubes and jars from one of its inside pockets. “Oh, you poor, unfortunate souls.”

x x x

There’s no way they’re going back to Crisco after this.

There’s just no fucking way.

Oil-based, water-based, silicone-based – it’s all there. There’re cream-based ones.  There’s _flavored_ ones. Scented ones. Ones that “create a bright, zingy, and tingling sensation!” and ones that cause warm or cool sensations, and –

“Why in the _world_ would you need so much lube?” Stanford shouts, arrested between complete amazement at its sheer diversity, and utter humiliation, “do you _always_ carry these with you?!”

“Oh my god, Poindexter.” Stanley’s giggling. He’s actually fucking giggling. “You turn into a _nerdy_ god of sex when you get old!”

  x x x

Stanley learns – much too late – that he shouldn’t make fun of Stanford when there are two of him present.

“ – and that’s when you pull away,” Older Ford instructs, withdrawing his fingers just a fraction. Stan’s shameless whine of protest goes straight to Ford’s already aching dick. “He’ll _say_ he doesn’t like it, but trust me, he loves it. So, just keep repeating that.” He rolls his fingers in a languid, circular motion inside Stan and Stan’s _moaning_ unabashedly again and thank god, _thank fucking god their parents are out of town tonight,_ “Just keep him _right_ on the edge.”

  x x x

“ – _please_ ,” Stan begs. His whole body is wonderfully flushed. There’s beads of sweat and precome, and maybe some drool, and some of his tears cling delicately to his lashes as he writhes and squirms in the older man’s relentless administrations, “please, _p-please_ , Ford, I’m so close, I – I can’t, I _need_ – ”  

Younger Ford groans heavily, canting his hips into his own hands, raking his nails up the insides of his thighs as his untouched dick bobs painfully. “I’m not gonna last, either,” he pants.

“Not yet.” Stan sobs brokenly as Older Ford withdraws his fingers again. “But soon.”

  x x x

“He’s all yours.”

Stanford scrambles over the sheets towards his twin, almost frenzied, and Stanley’s just as desperate. He clutches at his brother’s back and releases a long, ragged howl of desire as Stanford lines up and sinks himself deep inside.

Stanford fucks him. The wet slap of skin against skin is fast, brutal, mixed obscenely with short bursts of grunts and growls and “Uhn!”s and “Ahh!”s and “Yes! Fuck, f-fuckin’ pound me! Wreck my ass! Fuck – FUCK!”

They shout so loud the walls actually vibrate. Older Ford shakes his head at them as they come down.

“Teenagers,” he muses.

  x x x

“You’re inhuman,” Stanley gasps, flopping back down alongside his spent twin. “How are you not bustin’ a nut yet?”

“…Oh my god,” Stanford whimpers. “I get ED when I’m older, don’t I?!”

Older Ford snorts. He leans back in his seat and, extremely deliberately, adjusts himself in his pants.

“Does this look like ED to you?”

“N-no, sir, not at all,” Stanford stammers, and older Ford groans a little.

“Getting turned on by my younger self calling myself ‘sir’.” He chuckles. “Oh, Stanley’s never going to let me hear the end of this…”  

Stan squeals.

“There’s an older me, too?!”

  x x x

Older Ford blinks.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t there be?”

Stan looks beyond excited at this revelation, but Ford’s haze of bliss is starting to clear from his expression.

“And… Wherever you … and your Stanley are from…” Ford swallows. “Are we still… together?”

It feels like a bubble has literally burst inside the room. Stanley stares at his twin, mouth still in a half-smile, not completely processing the question and its implications yet.  

Older Ford runs a hand through his hair and sighs heavily. But a trace of a smile lingers on his lips.

“Yes. We are. But it’s… complicated.”

  x x x

The silence extends.

Both twins hold a silent conversation with each other, before scooting closer towards Older Ford with identical expressions of curiosity.

“Sto-ry, sto-ry,” Stan chants. He nudges at his brother and after a while Ford joins in as well, sheepishly.

Older Ford laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll have to erase your memories of me, after this. Consistent casual loops, and time paradoxes and all.” He ruffles their hair at their crestfallen faces. “But I’ll tell you this much:

“ _It was_ worth _it._ ”

Stan looks happy enough with the response.

Ford worries his lower lip, but nods eventually.

  x x x

He pockets the memory gun. Both twins blink stupidly at him from the doorway.

“Thank you for your time, young sirs.” Older Ford bows. “I hope you’ll fully enjoy our sample selection of Lee’s Lickable Lubricants, and Ford’s Fun Fornicators. Remember, practice safe sex!”

Ford scrunches his face, clearly uncomfortable, as the stranger turns to leave.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m slightly disturbed that he was selling products that just _happened_ to have _both_ our names on them,” he mutters, as Stan closes the door.  

“ _That’s_ what you noticed?” Stan scoffs, grimacing as well. “Creep had a hard-on!”

  x x x

“Jesus,” Stan startles, as Ford re-appears next to him in a white flash of light, “Give a guy some warnin’, will ya?”

Ford’s radiating smugness, as he returns the tape measure to one pocket, and pulls out a hidden camera from another. “I think _somebody_ lost a bet.”

“…oh my god. Ford, you _didn’t_.” Stan groans as he replays the video, while Ford shrugs his life jacket back on. “You did _not_ just go back in time just to make a sex tape of ourselves.”  

“I just did.”

He watches as his brother’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. Ford smirks.

  x x x

“’I don’t have a daddy kink’, my ass.”

“I don’t!” Stanley protests, weakly. He curses as his traitorous hips roll back against his twin’s.

Ford’s breathy chuckles turn into a soft rumble. His grin is shark-like as he holds up the video camera.

“Don’t make me replay this.”

Stan groans in frustration and defeat, head thumping back against the pillows. Ford laughs throatily and kisses down his chest.

“Nothing wrong with… _indulging_  a little, Stanley,” he murmurs, nosing gently through his pubic hair.

“Whatever,” Stan grumbles. His breath hitches as Ford takes him in. “I’m always a whore for you.”  


End file.
